


Fear

by BlueNerdBird



Series: Despite the Odds [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 04:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5730139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueNerdBird/pseuds/BlueNerdBird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MacCready is scared of losing her. The ghosts of his past still haunt him, but she has ghosts of her own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear

    Just an hour ago she had confessed her feelings for MacCready. He wanted to kick himself when he said that he needed to think about it. Of course he was thrilled that his little crush on her was reciprocated, but he was carrying some serious baggage. He didn’t want to bother her with his nightmares, panic attacks, and all the other wonderful things that he kept hidden so well. Even traveling with her, he had kept it hidden. Ever since he told her about Lucy and the ferals she had steered clear of them to the best of her abilities, and he was grateful for it.

    If he was completely honest with himself, he was scared shitless. He wanted to love her so badly. _God_ he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and kiss her senseless but he was afraid. The last time he loved someone this much they died bloody, and all because he was too tired to check to make sure that the place was clean.

    He didn’t know if he could live with himself if it happened again.

    So he resigned himself to sulk behind Jean, his boots lined with lead as they traveled the streets of Boston. She hadn’t said anything to him since he had all but rejected her, all because he was too scared to admit just how _scared_ he was. The kind of fear that grips every fiber of your being and drags it down, tensing each muscle until every step is harder than the last. He didn’t want to confess how every time he watched her fight ferals his heart stopped and he froze up, because he’s suddenly back in the sewer hearing his son cry into his shoulder.

    MacCready wants nothing more than to hide in her arms, Lucy’s, Jean’s, it didn’t matter, he just wanted someone to get rid of the overwhelming _fear._

No, he had to fight it. If he let himself get swept away by memories he would be stuck in a loop the whole day. The boss needed him, Jean needed him. He grounded himself in his senses, the sound of her footsteps against the puddles in the street, the rough grip of his sniper, the pack pulling against his shoulders, the musty smell of garbage and stagnant air.

    Pulling his head out of the gutter, he strode forward to walk by her side. He felt raw and exposed, and he trusted her to keep him from getting hurt. Even though he hurt her. She didn’t acknowledge him as he moved beside her, and he only felt guilt. Fear and guilt. Losing her would ruin him, but was the fear of losing her worth all the guilt he felt for rejecting her? He wasn’t sure.

    He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat was closed off. She helped him find the cure, no one had cared that much about him since Lucy, and dammit he didn’t want to throw it away. The words got caught in his throat, the weight of the words he wanted to say so badly couldn’t come out, nearly choking him.

    It was only then that she cast him a quick glance, a brief flash of teary blue eyes. The sight of her so upset made the guilt worse, and he gripped his rifle harder, his knuckles turning white. They were headed to set up a MILA for some guy in the Railroad, and while he knew it was just another routine job, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whether it was the feelings spinning him around until his vision got blurry or the guilt rotting his insides, or even something else, he didn’t know.

    Unable to keep his eyes from her for too long, he snuck another look at her, and saw the Silver Shroud hat pulled down in front of her eyes and her .44 held tight. He could tell from her stiff posture that something was wrong, and bitterly remembered he was the problem. In another world perhaps they could have had a normal life, a house with a dog and a couple kids running around. She would work in the lab while he would either stay home or have a mundane job. Those were normal things that people did before the war, at least according to Jean.

    The world was too unforgiving for them to ever find peace, so they traveled forward in search of moments where both of them could catch a break from death nipping at their heels. There were beautiful moments, sure, like when she had picked up the cure and asked him about it. The tears that followed were out of control, and she had to remind him more than once that _“No Mac, it’s not a dream.”_ The time they had to share a bedroll to keep warm, and he woke up first with his arms wrapped around her as she was curled into his chest. He left before she did, not wanting to explain the uncontrollable blush across his cheeks and ears. Or the time after a deathclaw fight, he patched her up and they limped their way through half of Boston to get to a doctor, the whole time he had an arm wrapped around her and her pistol in his other hand. All the times they he had let her sleep through morning as he took watch the whole night, and her repaying the favor the next week.

    She was his best friend in this godforsaken world, and his baggage could go to hell.

    “Jean, can we talk?” he asked nervously. He really hoped that she could at least hear him out, just a few minutes and he would explain everything. She turned and he saw a small glimmer of something in her eyes.

    “Sure, what’s on your mind?” she asked. He took a deep breath.

    “I…” his voice was cut off by gunfire. Instinctively, he and Jean both ducked for cover. She peered around the corner and peered through her scope.

    “Gunners! They’ve swarmed the place, MacCready you stay here, I’ll strike from up close.” As glad as he was that she was talking to him again, these were not the circumstances that he would have liked. Of course it was the Gunners, they always came back to haunt him. He tried not to see their faces as he shot them in fear that he would recognize one.

    She moved quickly, striking from the shadows and nailing three in one go. “That makes three!” Oh so that’s how she wanted to play it? Two could play at that game.

    He shot a corporal through the head and a newbie through the chest. “Up two, don’t get cocky.” he called back. They had started it just over a week ago, she started it after she realized how hard it was for him sometimes. He had killed too many people in the Gunners to take more lives, but if it was a matter of life and death…

    “Tough break, that makes four!” she called back. He found himself grinning against his will, fueled by adrenaline and competition he picked off a few more.

    “Four for me as well, looks like there aren’t many left.” he said as they pushed forward into their camp. He watched her back as she took the caps and ammo off the bodies.

    “Hey, try this out would you? It looks to be in pretty good shape.” she handed him a well-oiled sniper rifle, with a night vision scope and .50 magazine.

    “Impressive model, thanks Jean.” he said, strapping his current one to his back and taking the new one into his hands, testing it.

    “No problem, let’s head inside, there should be an elevator to the top.” he nodded and they headed inside the bank. Once inside she took her time, picking up random junk.

    “Come on, just leave it.” he insisted, why carry a desk fan when you could carry more weapons and ammo? They weren’t even worth very many caps.

    “I need it to fix up my laser rifle, the damn thing’s been acting up on me again.”

    “Then sell it, I’m sure there’s no shortage of those around the Commonwealth.”

    “Can’t, it was a gift from Danse. If he heard I sold it then I’d probably be thrown from a vertibird.”

    “He’s an arrogant tin can, and you could use the caps to get that Big Boy you’ve been eyeing in Diamond City.”

    “Mac it’d take a lot more than this gun to buy that thing.”

    “Well, I could help. I don’t have too much, but I have a few things I could sell.”

    “No, you don’t have to do…”

    “What if I wanted to?” he said, interrupting her. He meant it, ever since their first trip to Diamond City together he had been with her as she bartered with Arturo as he made puppy eyes at her. He always noticed that she had her eye on the unique fat man on the shelf, and no matter how much she charmed her way into a discount, he never budged on the damn thing.  At first he had just rolled his eyes, she was just insane if she thought she was some special snowflake in this wasteland.. Then he began to see the other side of her, the one that helped people regardless of whether they could help her in return, the loud laughter he got the first time he made a lame joke, her awful snoring as he kept watch, and the way she actually listened to him and cared about what he was going through. She had helped him through nightmares and times he’s been triggered by ferals, and he’s helped her out of her panic when the weather turns cold or in tight spaces. They were both broken, but it brought them together, in a weird sort of way.

    “Earlier you said you didn’t want us to be in that kind of relationship.” she said, testing the waters. Now was a good of a chance as any, he supposed.

    “I didn’t mean it. When you told me that it… it took a while to process. Sometimes I say things before I can think, and then I just regret it. The truth is… Jean…” his voice quieted as he stepped closer to her, drawn in by the hopeful look in her eyes.

    A laser comes from around the corner and catches MacCready in the shoulder.

    “Damn…” he curses, and man do laser burns sting like a mother-

    A cry tore loose from Jean as she tore into the protectron with the fury of a hundred deathclaws, unleashing a Molotov before ripping it open with her .44. MacCready didn’t even have time to react before it exploded before them. His jaw had dropped, even after all this time she was full of surprises. He closed it as she stimmed his shoulder, patting it lightly when it healed.

    “Back to our conversation, you were saying something about…” MacCready cut her off with a searing kiss. It was a long time coming, full of unspoken trust and respect. He didn’t push too hard, but had to restrain himself from pinning her against the wall. An arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer. For half a second she didn’t respond and MacCready almost pulled back, afraid that he was being too forward… and then she grabbed his coat with both her hands and took control, pinning him back against the wall and kissing him harder.

    His brain then decided to go on vacation, and he let go of the guilt, determined to not let it control him. Her lips felt better than he had ever imagined, and he decided it was worth whatever guilt he felt, it was worth the fear, because she was in his arms, tangling her fingers in her hair as he ran a hand down her back and pulled her harder against him. The kisses were desperate, each of them seeking the peace they craved, a moment of calm among the storm that raged around them.

    He couldn’t get close enough, trying to catch his breath as he let himself get lost in the feel of her lips, her muscles, her breath mingling with his, being surrounded by her completely. For a few brief moments she chased away the ghosts of his past and the monsters of his future, grounding him to reality in a way that he hadn’t ever felt before. It was better than some cheap trick given to him by some doctor in a rundown city, she was more real than the ground underneath his feet and the sniper pinned painfully against his back, and if he could have stayed there with her forever, he would have.

    Rustling on the floor above them finally drove them apart. It didn’t distract him from the way her face was flushed, her freckles disappearing beneath red as she caught her breath. He knew he was about the same, and he felt electricity from where her hands were on him, neither of them resigning to move away quite yet. Something shifted in her face and MacCready instantly worried that he’d done something wrong.

    “Why did you reject me earlier?” she asked quietly. He felt another stab of guilt, of course the calm wouldn’t last forever.

    “I was scared to lose the one of the only things left in this world I care about.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

    “I’m sorry if I pressured you like that. I know that we’ve both been through some shit, and you’re not the only one that’s afraid. It’s a risk we’ll have to take, it’s not like our lives will be very long in this twisted world. I couldn’t let this thing we’ve got going stop, and I hope that you’ll stay with me as long as we’re able. Not many others understand like you do, the flashbacks and nightmares, you never really recover from shit like that. Can’t hurt to try though.” she said, searching his face for a response. He kissed her again, keeping it short this time.

    “I plan on walking by your side for the rest of my life, that give you enough of a clue?” he said seriously, but the edge of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

    “Mmm… I don’t know… I think your kissing skills could use some work.” she teased. MacCready played along and tried to look hurt.

    “Looks like I need some more practice then…” he said, and they were kissing again.

    “Wait… there are probably Gunners crawling all over the place…” she said, pulling back.

    “Screw them, they can shoot themselves for all I care.” he replied and resumed kissing her jaw.

    “Hey, if we finish this job we can practice more than kissing.” she promised. MacCready had never been more eager to follow her orders, already swinging the new gun off his shoulder and flipping the safety off.

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a practice for writing traumatized characters and kind of spiraled out of my control. Hope you liked it, my tumblr is bluenerdberd and I have written a few other stories about these two on my profile.


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